Heroes' Dust
Wild grasses swayed in the night breeze, and green lights illuminated the horizon.
One lamp after another.
In an instant, they appeared as densely packed as water droplets in a wave.
The ordinary soldiers and the wounded from the carnival parade were still in a daze.
Ailin and Vesemir, however, had already squinted and made out the true form of the lights that had gathered into a tide.
A strange green lantern, a emaciated body, and a motley collection of weapons...
Demon spirit!
At least a thousand demonic spirits, tormented by pain and rage, and filled with hatred and jealousy for the living, rushed over, drawn by the scent of blood.
"Is this what you call the bigger problem?" Ailin glanced at Vesemir.
"Hiss~" The Witcher Master gasped, shaking his head as he stared at the horrifying scene.
"No, this is much, much more serious than I imagined..."
Let alone Ailin, the witcher who just came down from the mountain.
This spectacular scene of hundreds or even thousands of demons coming towards him was something he had never encountered before.
certainly.
He didn't want to have that experience either.
The two witchers drew their silver swords in perfect unison and carefully applied Specter Oil.
At this moment.
A commotion arose behind the two witchers.
"Ah!!! You demon!"
"Goddess Meritellie! That's a ghost come to claim my life!!!"
"Run! Run!"
The May Festival revelers, still not fully conscious, were thrown into panic once they saw the terrifying figures illuminated by the ghostly lights.
"Silence!"
The leading black-helmeted knight roared and, riding his horse, used his sword sheath to strike several of the panicked youths several times.
"With my Monster Hunter Army and Guard Knight here, what is there to fear..."
"Not to mention..."
The black-armored knight glanced in the direction of the witcher and the Sorceress, then roared:
"Lady Vesemir, the Bloody Red Fox, along with Master Ailin and Master Vesemir of the School of the Wolf, are all here, protecting Arland..."
"Master Ailin is still the May King chosen by you. Why don't you calm down and help the wounded into the city? Don't disgrace the Arlanders!"
I don't know the Black Helmet Knight's menacing tone, Vesemir's reputation, or the title of the School of the Wolf's Witcher Master...
Even though they were peers, and even the Mayday King Arryn and Queen Mary, who looked younger than them, faced terrifying monsters, causing the young people's pride to falter.
Or it may include several factors.
Although fear still lingered in the eyes of those young people and their bodies were still trembling, they actually quieted down.
Two people, supporting each other, staggered towards Arland.
"It's too dangerous here. You should come back with us soon." The Witcher glanced at the returning crowd and urged Mary beside him in a low voice.
The girl glanced at the approaching tide of demon spirits, her face pale, but she shook her head firmly.
She knew Ailin couldn't leave, so she didn't try to stop him, just as Vesemir, though she knew what was going to happen, didn't try to dissuade him.
A Witcher from the School of the Wolf cannot escape alone when faced with a monster attack on a human.
But with so many demons, she wanted to live in fear all by herself in the city...
It's impossible!
"I can help you this time, I won't hold you back," the girl pleaded.
Do you have a cheat code too?
Can you really be completely transformed in just over twenty days?
Ailin was about to whisper another word of persuasion.
At this moment.
"Monster Hunter Army, dismount!"
"Form ranks!"
After arranging for the wounded, the black-helmeted knight gave a loud command.
The soldiers in black armor who had come with him dismounted and proceeded in groups of five to the two witchers.
Holding axe-shaped long weapons that gleamed with a blue eerie light in the firelight, they fearlessly stared at the approaching tide of demonic spirits.
"Clang!"
The swords rang out almost simultaneously.
The Guard Knight, clad in grey armor, drew their longswords coated with Specter Oil and rode alongside the lead knight, siding on the other side of the Monster Hunter Army.
I've seen the leading knight before, Ailin; his name is Arthur.
The two armies, totaling approximately three hundred soldiers, were all lined up in neat rows.
Arthur approached the Sorceress and respectfully said, "Lady Vesemir..."
The Sorceress, who was setting up the ceremony, glanced at the approaching demon spirit and said expressionlessly:
"I need some more time."
Arthur paused for a second, glanced back at his comrades holding longswords, took a deep breath, and nodded vigorously:
"We will do our best to buy you time."
Immediately afterwards.
He rode back.
Arthur paused for a moment as he passed Vesemir and Ailin.
But in the end, he said nothing and returned to the front of the Guard Knight.
The eerie green light of the demon was getting closer and closer, now only about 800 meters away from the group.
"Check the Sword Oil!" Arthur glanced at his comrades beside him.
All the swords gleamed with a ghostly blue light in the firelight.
Arthur nodded solemnly to the black-armored knight not far away, spurred his horse, raised his dark blue longsword, and shouted:
"Guard Knight! Charge!"
The next moment.
"Hiss--"
A black warhorse neighed and charged like lightning towards the menacing monsters.
The remaining knights pulled on the reins, kicking up clouds of dust as they followed closely behind.
The earth trembled beneath the horses' hooves.
Arthur watched as the dark green tide drew ever closer.
It hasn't gone very far yet.
He then heard the mournful neighing of horses and the sound of heavy objects falling to the ground from his right.
Nighttime is a time that does not belong to humankind.
Although many torches and bonfires were burning nearby due to the celebration procession, and the ugly spirits were also carrying lanterns.
However, this still cannot offset the negative effects of nighttime.
Pitfalls, gravel, silt...
The terrain outside the city of Arland is not flat.
No competent cavalry commander would choose to launch a charge at such a time and in such terrain.
pity...
Behind them lay their homes, their families, the lord they had sworn allegiance to, and countless people, both acquaintances and strangers, who had trusted Arland and joined the revelry.
Tonight.
Arland has suffered heavy casualties and is riddled with wounds.
They had no choice.
"Da da da~"
The sound of horses' hooves thundered.
The heavy breathing of the warhorse came from beneath him.
Arthur's heartbeat quickened and intensified with each gasp.
The faceless, sword-wielding demon is getting closer!
The grey cloak looked particularly eerie and terrifying under the green lantern.
"Whoosh~"
Arthur took a deep breath and glanced at the blue glow reflected on his longsword by the moonlight.
He didn't know if the young witcher's Specter Oil would work.
But it doesn't matter anymore.
The way of chivalry is to protect.
Protecting him now takes time, so let him give his life in exchange!
"Kill!"
With a roar that seemed to bulge out of its veins, the knight pulled the reins to the right.
With skillful horsemanship, the cavalry's arrows grazed the demonic tide and turned eastward.
"Laugh--"
Amidst the violent steaming sound of boiling water.
A flash of eerie blue light, Arthur's longsword slashed across more than a dozen demons at the edge of the demon tide.
The figures of these dozen or so demonic spirits visibly faded by about three-tenths.
The next second.
"Ah--"
A series of eerie blue lights flashed by.
Amidst terrifying screams, the demonic spirits ignited into clusters of eerie green sparks, vaporizing and disappearing into the air.
"It works!"
Even the usually calm and cautious Arthur almost cried out in surprise when he saw this scene.
The knights behind them also cheered loudly, their morale soaring.
The spirits can become intangible and teleport, but it always takes time.
With a swift slash of the swords of the three knights, a demon was annihilated.
It didn't even take a second.
Those clumsy monsters, driven only by the instincts of hatred and jealousy to kill, had no time to react.
Moreover, even if the other surviving demons reacted or accidentally dodged,
Even teleportation has its limits; they simply can't catch up with these speeding knights.
Of course, he didn't laugh at the people of the past for not coming up with this method of cavalry eliminating ghostly creatures.
If there is no Specter Oil.
Even though they were all armed with the silver weapons used by the Monster Hunter Army.
It would take at least twenty or thirty cuts.
Three swords versus twenty or thirty swords, when accumulated over time, result in completely different outcomes.
Given that it takes at least twenty or thirty sword strikes to kill a single demon, it's difficult to guarantee that every charging knight will hit the same target.
Over time.
Once the other demons behind the target replaced them, it was practically a wasted effort.
To be honest...
Before the availability of Specter Oil, even Duke Mason's costly Monster Hunter Army only dared to deal with a single ghost when there were at least five of them.
Even so.
If a soldier makes a mistake without careful attention, there could be heavy casualties.
Therefore, most of the time, demon hunters are the best choice to deal with demons.
After all, the value of any soldier in the Monster Hunter Army is many times greater than the bounty offered.
Arthur glanced behind him at the demons that had been drawn by his charge, and his confidence soared.
"Turn back!" He raised his sword and let out a long, triumphant cry.
After the knights had circled around to the semicircle and were facing the horde of demons and monsters again...
"Charge!"
With a sharp shout, the waves of the living and the dead collided once more.
They collided and sparked dazzling, eerie green sparks.
On the other side.
Sala, an officer in the Monster Hunter Army clad in black armor, squinted.
Although he could see the fireworks woven by his comrades in the distance, he did not feel much joy deep down.
"Too many!"
Sala sighed helplessly.
Perhaps Arthur was too close to see clearly, but he could see it.
Those blooming green flames were practically inconspicuous among the hundreds and thousands of lights.
It couldn't even completely attract that large group of demons.
Most of the demons were still moving towards them steadily, albeit at a slightly slower pace...
No...
Sala glanced back at the brightly lit city.
It should have steadily drifted straight towards Arland, where the blood and life force were most intense.
and.
Although the soldiers from both armies responsible for maintaining order in the city contributed their Specter Oil.
However, due to their scarcity, the Guard Knight each carried only two bottles of Specter Oil.
Once the Specter Oil runs out.
They could only rely on the lives of the Guard Knight to stall for time.
Moreover, warhorses are not tireless inanimate objects; the Guard Knight might be in danger even before the Specter Oil is exhausted.
so...
How much longer?
Looking into the distance, the cavalry, under the green lights, seemed to be slowing down and becoming more sluggish.
Sala felt as if she were burning with anxiety.
But he suppressed his emotions and didn't even turn his head in the direction of the sorceress Vera.
He was afraid that his gaze would slow down her preparations for the ceremony.
He couldn't even order his troops to advance and attack the demons.
Because this would only put his comrades at risk of their lives, and the time gained would be wasted.
Only when they are all dead, or have completely lost their usefulness.
Only the Monster Hunter Army can take their place.
They gave their lives to buy a last chance for survival for Arland.
Just then.
A sudden commotion broke out among the Monster Hunter Army in front of him.
Sala quickly looked in the direction of the demon, where the lights of a thousand lamps were still shining brightly.
"The problem isn't with Arthur," he thought with certainty.
What is that?
Sala looked in the direction of the Monster Hunter Army' commotion.
Two figures carrying two swords and leading two horses were walking step by step into the darkness. Under the surging green waves, they were as small as grains of sand.
What are those two witchers planning to do?
Before the thought had even left her mind, Sala slapped her forehead.
I was so anxious I was practically paralyzed.
What else can a witcher do? Of course, it's to eliminate... eliminate...
... Exorcising demons?
Sala was taken aback.
Are they... insane?
As an officer in the Monster Hunter Army demons in Arland, he naturally had many interactions with Witchers.
Even if you add up all the Witcher Master from different schools, there are very few of them.
He also had the experience of defeating monsters with one or two other people.
so.
Sala knew the power levels of the Witcher Master like the back of her hand, and at least among the thousands of demon spirits before her, none of the Witcher Master she knew in the past would dare to challenge her.
That's why Arthur didn't even greet them just now.
On the one hand, the number of over a thousand demons was simply too large; no normal person would agree to such a request, Arthur was unwilling to humiliate himself.
On the other hand...
Two or three thousand Oren is a lot of money.
But that's not the reason to force these human heroes to waste their lives here.
Witcher Master can use this life to save many more people.
Especially that young witcher Ailin, who created miraculous formulas like Specter Oil and Ghoul Oil, and was known as the Blue Death ...
therefore.
On their way here, they learned from High Priest Ianna what kind of disaster Arland would face...
He and Arthur then secretly discussed and came up with this decision.
"Wait..."
Sala stared at the figure carrying two swords and opened her mouth.
But at this moment.
The faint sounds of commotion and weeping coming from behind him in Arland, and the faces of his lord, wife, children, and comrades appearing in his mind, made it impossible for him to say the words to ask them to stay and save him.
It was as if, the moment those words were uttered, everything in his mind would turn into fuel for that hateful green flame.
final.
He could only watch as the Witcher, without hesitation, mounted his black warhorse and galloped away, transforming into two specks of dust beneath a thousand lamps.
He didn't say anything...
Nothing... was done...